


A Serpent's Tooth, Crack'd and Dull

by Froggimus_Rex



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 06:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17657768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Froggimus_Rex/pseuds/Froggimus_Rex
Summary: Shadow Weaver didn't raise an ungrateful child.





	A Serpent's Tooth, Crack'd and Dull

Stiff, sore, with a dull ache between her legs, Catra slowly came back to herself, unsure where she was beyond lying on some hard, metal surface. At least until Shadow Weaver spoke, "I trust you're done making a spectacle of yourself, Force Captain," and the memories, that odd mix of blurry and over-sharp came rushing back in. 

Scorpia finding her in her quarters (And it had to have been Scorpia. Naive, trusting, well-meaning Scorpia. Couldn't it have been Lonnie? She would've been insufferable about seeing her like that after, but she knew to be discreet in the moment. Knew there were some things you kept your mouth shut about no matter how much to couldn't stand someone.) and rushing her to the med-wing over her far too feeble attempts at protesting. Shadow Weaver appearing, ordering her to follow, her hand an ice-cold brand on her arm as she half-marched, half-dragged her along.

She suppressed a wince as she slid off the bench, onto her feet, muttering her response to Shadow Weaver's non-question. The wince wasn't he only thing she fought down, she didn't need to think of the bored touch of cool, indifferent fingers in her cunt turning harsh, deliberately cruel at a slip of her tongue, a name murmured by mistake. She wanted nothing more than to slink out the door, lick her wounds in private, but of course Shadow Weaver was having none of that. That would be a kindness.

"What do we say, Force Captain?" It was the exact same tone she'd used to make her ask, beg, _grovel_ for every tormenting, unwelcome, desired touch, neither pride or shame able to withstand that haze of hot, overwhelming need, and she knew what was expected of her.

The words stuck in her throat, but she forced them out anyway. "Thank you, Shadow Weaver."

"Good girl, Catra." Shadow Weaver's hand stroking her hair was nothing but a twisted mockery of affection and it was everything she'd ever wanted and she hated herself all the more for leaning into it. "Next time, do not make me fetch you."


End file.
